


The Steve Rogers Guide On How NOT To Ask Someone Out

by WinterSabbath



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And Failing, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I mean that both emotionally and literally, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Pining, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Trying to Flirt, Steve fits a lot of trees in his apartment and let's just pretend he has infinite space in there, Supportive Avengers, but Bucky finds it cute, by convincing Steve to get it together, stuckygiftexchange2020, there are a lot of pine trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28302921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSabbath/pseuds/WinterSabbath
Summary: “I want ten big Christmas trees,” Steve blurted out, shoving his hands in his pocket just to check that he brought his credit card to pay for ten trees.Barnes stared at him. “Ten.”“Yes, ten.”“Ten.”“You heard me.”OR When Natasha told Steve to buy a Christmas tree, he didn't expect to fall for the employee selling them. But instead of asking Bucky Barnes out like a normal person, Steve just keeps coming back to buy more trees.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 30
Kudos: 310





	The Steve Rogers Guide On How NOT To Ask Someone Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [martianbarnes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/martianbarnes/gifts).



> For my stucky secret santa giftee, martianbarnes (captainjanegay on tumblr). You didn't specify what you wanted, but I really hope you enjoy this one!!!

**_December 10_ **

Steve wasn’t _lonely._

Sure, his only actual friend in this century were Sam Wilson and Natasha. And maybe his apartment didn’t quite have the same homey feel to it as it did back in the 1940s, but at least it wasn’t falling apart this time.

“You don’t even have a Christmas stocking,” Natasha said, walking over to his windows.

Steve stared after her, wondering why he bothered inviting someone into his home only for them to insult it. He crossed his arms. “Why are you here?”

“Have you seen how sad your apartment looks, Rogers? There is _nothing_ in here.”

“Nat—”

“Didn’t you use to draw? Why don’t you put any of your drawings up?”

Steve felt his cheeks warm. He didn’t like putting his drawings up for display because when people like Natasha came over with no warning, they could see it, and they’ll probably criticize some.

“Why are you here?” Steve asked again, deflecting.

“I was going to invite you to eat dinner, but now I’m here to tell you to get a Christmas tree.”

Steve blinked. “Excuse me?”

“And a Christmas date.”

“That is not a thing—”

“It is now. Come on, I know a place with lots of girls,” Natasha said, winking at him. She smirked and grabbed his wrist, practically dragging him out the door. Physically, Steve could resist, but he knew she wasn’t going to leave his apartment if he didn’t come with.

As they waited by the elevator, Steve frowned at her. “By lots of girls, did you mean a strip club?” Because, well, strip clubs with _girls_ weren’t exactly appealing to him, sexually speaking. And he was unable to get drunk enough to find any sort of joy in it. Though he wasn’t _not_ attracted to girls, just... _sexually_ , he’d rather be with guys.

Not that Natasha knew any of that.

“Not a strip club, Rogers. Don’t want to ruin that virgin image of yours.”

Steve rolled his eyes, stepping into the elevator. “I’m not a virgin.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“That’s disgusting.”

She laughed, pressing G. The elevator descended and Steve gave her a disgruntled look. “I don’t have my phone or wallet.”

“Look at you, attached to your phone like a proper 21st century man.”

He sighed. “I don’t need a tree,” he mumbled as a final attempt of protest.

But, of course, since he was friends with Natasha, he still ended up standing in front of a store that glowed red and green. _Jingle Bells_ played in the background and a Santa Claus animatronic greeted then at the entrance, arm waving stiffly in the air as it bellowed a cheerful _Merry Christmas!_ and began to dance to the music.

And even though Christmas was still over a week away, customers were already rushing around the shop in a hurry to buy decorations and gifts. Steve stood next to a bunch of reindeer stuffed toys, arms folded as he scanned the place. There was a glass door that led to a massive garden full of pine trees.

Two employees in Santa hats were fixing the tinsel on the walls, and Natasha pointed at the female employee. “What do you think of her?”

Steve sighed, ready to say something about how much he _didn’t_ want to be set up with the girl.

But then the girl’s companion turned around, and the words died in Steve’s throat.

The guy didn’t look directly at Steve, nor did give any hint of having seen Steve at all, but Steve still found himself mesmerized as the guy laughed and the Santa hat slipped off his head from throwing his head back too far. And _oh_ , did Steve _want_. He was no saint, after all, and it had been a while since he had last taken a man to bed.

“So we like her?” Natasha asked. Steve didn’t know whether or not to be thankful that Natasha didn’t know who exactly he was looking at.

“No,” he said, truthful.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

“You really don’t need—”

His protests went unheeded, as they usually were. Natasha dragged him over to the pair of employees. The beautiful man who caught Steve’s eye was in the middle of readjusting his Santa hat, trying to make it fit better so it didn’t fall off again.

Steve bit back a smile.

“Sharon!” Natasha exclaimed, pulling the girl into a hug as if they were close friends. Steve furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he was missing something. The girl _did_ look a bit familiar. The two parted, and Natasha jerked a thumb in Steve’s direction. “Sharon, this is Steve. Steve, Sharon.”

“Hey,” Sharon greeted, and Steve could see the moment she recognized him, her small wave in the air faltered, and her eyebrows raised in surprise.

Steve clenched his jaw and gave a forced smile. “Hi. I just want to buy a tree.”

The guy—whose name Steve _still_ didn’t know because the employees weren’t wearing any name tags—patted Sharon’s shoulder and made himself scarce, moving away from the group to go and talk to other customers. Steve felt his heart sink. There was no way he could get a chance to talk to the guy now. Not with Natasha’s hovering.

Sharon, oblivious to Steve’s disappointment, began to give him a rundown of the different types and sizes of trees he could buy.

There were fifteen days ‘til Christmas, and Steve went home with a fake Christmas tree that was the length of his forearm, wondering if he could use SHIELD’s technology to find out what the guy’s name was.

* * *

**_December 11_ **

In the end, Steve went with the more traditional approach: going back to the store.

It was just as busy during the afternoon, but the red and green lights weren’t lit up yet. The lack of bright lights managed to make the store feel quieter somehow. Santa greeted Steve by the door again, and _Winter Wonderland_ played in the background as he stepped inside.

Sharon spotted him immediately. “Hey, Steve,” she said, surprised.

Steve gave her a brief nod, ready to turn around and walk out the shop because he couldn’t see the guy from where he was standing. Then he realized that _Sharon_ would probably know where the guy was. So, because Steve wasn’t a complete asshole, he put on a genuine smile and asked: “I just want to know if... uh, last night you were talking to this guy, see, and I—”

“Oh!” she clapped her hands together. “We aren’t dating, if that’s what you were wondering.”

That...

That was _not_ what he was wondering.

Although, now that she mentioned it, he realized that he wasn’t even sure if the guy was gay. Steve was far more used to picking up men in discreet and illegal bars where everyone knew that everyone was gay.

At Steve’s silence, Sharon continued, “I’m single, by the way.”

It was pretty clear where this was going, so Steve attempted to do some damage control. “Look, Sharon, I’m sure you’re a lovely girl, but—"

A sigh. “It’s because of my great aunt, isn’t it?”

“Your... what?”

She tilted her head. “Peggy?”

Steve blinked at her, thought about it for a few moments, then exclaimed: “She’s your _what?!_ ”

Why would Natasha want to set him up with Peggy’s great-niece? That was... that was a _little_ weird. Sure, he and Peggy barely had anything remotely close to a serious relationship, but _Natasha_ didn’t know that. The _whole world_ thought they were the romance of the century.

So to set him up with her great-niece was... more than a little disconcerting.

Before Steve could do something stupid like say what was on his mind, a male voice approached them, asking, “Hey, what’s going on here?”

Steve turned, a glare already on his face because he didn’t need anyone butting in on the conversation.

Then he found himself face-to-face with _the_ guy, and the annoyance died off, replaced instead by a small ounce of embarrassment and a big chunk of _fuck, I did not think this through_.

Sharon was waving the guy away. “I’m fine, Barnes.”

 _A name!_ Steve’s mind rejoiced quietly. Albeit, a last name. But a name nonetheless.

Barnes stepped next to her, looking between her and Steve, then leaning over to whisper in Sharon’s ear, “You sure?”

Normal people probably wouldn’t have heard that, but Steve’s got superhearing, so he _did_. Sharon pursed her lips, looking back at Steve. “Actually, I think I’ve had enough awkward conversations today.” Steve did _not_ get the impression that it was awkward on _her_ side of the conversation. “Talk to Barnes if you need anything, Steve.”

Steve watched her go, a little confused.

“She was talking about wanting to go on a date with you,” Barnes was saying when Sharon disappeared around the corner. “Last night, I mean. After you left with your sad excuse of a tree.”

“It’s not—I, uh, I just don’t—”

Barnes tilted his head. “Don’t date?”

“No!” Steve all but yelled. “I do date. I just. I just.” He scrambled for an excuse. Explaining his sexuality to a stranger would take too long and he didn’t want to sound like he thought Sharon was unappealing or anything. He cleared his throat, giving the best excuse he could think of on such short notice. “I kind of have my eyes set on someone else.”

Which wasn’t _far_ from the truth, but it was still a bit of a stretch. After all, he only knew of Barnes for less than a day, and they have not even spoken for more than five minutes.

“Huh.” Barnes nodded thoughtfully. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Not really any of my business what the customers get up to,” he said, shrugging. Steve still didn’t know if Barnes recognized him at all. “So, what are you here for?”

“Uh. What do you recommend?”

Barnes’ lips twitched, an amused smile forming on his face. “That’s a very broad question, Steve.”

Steve’s heart jumped at the name, but he remembered that Sharon called him _Steve_ before leaving, so Barnes knowing he was _Steve_ didn’t mean he knew he was _Captain America_.

“I’ll... get a tree, I guess.”

“A real one this time?”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Just a small one. The big ones take up too much space.”

“Damn, at this rate, I’m never getting the top prize,” Barnes muttered under his breath, though it sounded like he was joking. He shook his head, smiling. “Come on. Baby trees are this way.”

“What did you mean by prize?”

“Hm? Oh, just a joke. Kind of.” Barnes picked a small, plastic tree off the shelf and held it up for Steve. “The employee who sells the most Christmas trees—the actual ones—will get a cash prize. Bigger Christmas bonus than everyone else, basically.”

Steve took the tree from Barnes and set it back on the shelf. “Are you in the lead?”

Barnes snorted. “No. I’m like, fifth. Sharon’s second, I think.”

He’d already decided, but Steve paused to pretend to think for a moment. Then, he motioned towards the real trees, shooting Barnes a small, hopeful smile. “I think I’ll get a big tree today.”

“What happened to them taking up too much space?”

Steve just shrugged. “My place could use a bit more design.”

There were fourteen days ‘til Christmas, and, two hours later, Steve had a newly delivered tree in the middle of his apartment and a last name to think about.

* * *

**_December 12_ **

Going back _again_ the day after might’ve been a little suspicious, but Steve had never been one for tact.

It was 9 a.m. and Barnes was standing outside the shop, bent behind the Santa Claus animatronic. There was a toolbox by his feet. Steve stopped in front of Santa, frowning a bit. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get Santa to dance.” Barnes grunted, taking a step back. “Can you wave a hand in front of his sensor?”

Steve did as told, bending over to wave his right hand over the sensor on Santa’s feet. Santa did his _Ho, ho, ho Merry Christmas!_ thing and began to dance as he usually did. Barnes grinned triumphantly, throwing a screwdriver back into his toolbox.

“So, why are you here?”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

Barnes blinked, then let out a confused laugh. “Uh, I work here?”

“I mean, two nights ago you were here at 8 at night. Now you’re here at 9 in the morning. That’s—that’s more than your standard eight hours.”

“Oh.” Barnes rubbed a behind his neck, then picked up the toolbox. “They need the manpower at night, and I don’t mind volunteering to work overtime. I get paid for it anyway.”

And Steve, more than anyone, should’ve understood what it was like—having to overwork yourself to make ends meet. Yet he still felt his hackles rise a little at the unfairness of it all. There was only one way he could make it better for Barnes, really.

“I want ten big Christmas trees,” Steve blurted out, shoving his hands in his pocket just to check that he brought his credit card to pay for ten trees.

Barnes stared at him. “Ten.”

“Yes, ten.”

“ _Ten_.”

“You heard me.”

“I—uh, okay.” Barnes laughed rather hysterically. “ _Ten_ trees coming right up.”

They walked inside, brushing off the little snow that had accumulated on their heads. Barnes set the toolbox on the counter. Early in the morning, there was barely anyone in the store. Sharon was nowhere to be found, and there were significantly fewer employees and customers. Steve made a mental note to always come in the mornings.

“This will probably take several round trips to deliver,” Barnes murmured as he pulled the glass door open and led Steve to the massive garden.

“I’ll just have someone pick it up,” Steve said. He wondered what Tony would think if he asked to borrow a Stark Industries truck for ten trees. Well, Tony teased him for everything he did anyway. What difference would this make?

Barnes put his hands on his hips, giving Steve a look. “Are you _sure_ you want ten trees?”

“I can help you carry it,” Steve offered.

Barnes snorted. “That is _not_ the problem.” He picked up the saw, careful not to swing it near Steve. “I’m just a bit concerned. Yesterday, you mentioned you didn’t have space for _one_ tree. Now you want ten.”

“Well, I have space now.”

Barnes laughed, using a gloved hand to wave Steve away from him. “I’ll pick out the best trees for you. You go pay at the counter so I’m sure you won’t run off once I’ve taken down ten trees.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He grinned. “Can’t hurt to be sure.”

Then he walked off, feet crunching in the snow.

Steve was proud. That was a pretty decent conversation, in his opinion. _And_ he was going to help Barnes win that cash prize by buying as many trees as necessary.

He walked back inside the store, sending a quick text to Tony about helping him take home ten Christmas trees. Tony’s response was an expected _What????_ followed by a _Can’t be there in person, but I sent Happy and a bunch of guys. You got some explaining to do!_

Steve put his phone back in his pocket. He wasn’t going to explain anything.

“Hi, I ordered ten trees,” Steve said to the cashier, sliding over his credit card.

The cashier glanced at the card, then at Steve, eyes going a little wide. Whether it was because of the number of trees he was buying or because of the name on the card, he wasn’t sure. She nodded hesitantly and scanned it.

As the transaction was being made, Steve’s gaze wandered to the wall past her. There were multiple signs and awards plastered on it, and, somewhere in the middle, there was a whiteboard with the words _Christmas Tree Sales_ written on top of it.

The first name was _Brock Rumlow_ , with an impressive fifty-three sales.

The second was _Sharon Carter_ , with thirty-two.

Steve let his eyes wander to the fifth row. _Bucky Barnes_ was written on it, with only twenty-two sales. Three things registered at once: First, Barnes went by _Bucky_. Second, Steve had no idea why he never noticed the list before. Third, even with Steve’s ten trees, Bucky _still_ wouldn’t be at the top of the list. He’d just be in tie with Sharon, but so far behind this _Rumlow_ guy.

Steve felt more competitive on Bucky’s behalf. Probably even more competitive than Bucky himself.

“How does Rumlow get that much sales?” Steve asked the cashier, trying to keep his voice neutral. Trying to make it seem like he was curious _just because_.

The cashier glanced back at the list, then looked back at Steve. “Officially? He’s good at retail.”

Steve frowned. “Unofficially?”

“He steals Bucky’s customers.”

“What?”

“Usually, when Bucky’s cutting up a tree, Rumlow tries to drag the customer to the counter and have them write his name instead. Like you did yesterday, and like you have to do today.” She slid over a piece of paper. It was the same form Steve had filled up yesterday. He had to write his name, the number of trees he bought, and then the name of the employee he bought it from.

Steve stared at the form, pen pressed so firmly on the paper, the ink was probably leaking through the other side. “Why do you let Rumlow get away with it?”

“It’s not that big of a deal.” The cashier shrugged. “Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. He probably has a lot of money anyway.”

That wasn’t true, and also: “That’s not fair.”

The cashier eyed him warily. “With all due respect, sir, I didn’t really think that a little store competition is something Captain America gets upset about.”

“I’m not—I just—” Steve grunted, filling up the form and pushing it towards her. He then signed the receipt and got back his card, giving her a small, insincere smile. “It’s just not fair, okay?”

He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he took the receipt and stepped back outside, watching Bucky cut out a tree. There were already three next to him.

Steve managed a smile. “You going to finish this year or?”

Bucky scrunched his nose, pouting at Steve. His cheeks were already tinged red. “Yeah, bet a beefcake like you would have no problem with this,” he grumbled, but there was a small smile on his face that erased the apprehension in his tone. He held out the saw. “You wanna try?”

Steve looked at the saw, pursing his lips. “I might ruin it.”

Bucky just waved the saw more insistently. He was far enough that the tool didn’t pose as a threat to Steve. “Come on, it’s not rocket science.”

“Are you trying to trick me into doing the work for you?”

Bucky smirked. “Is it working?”

“Not in the slightest bit,” Steve said. He took the saw anyway.

There were thirteen days ‘til Christmas, and Steve sawed off seven more trees and went home with ten.

* * *

**_December 13_ **

“Uh.”

“Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“I know, I know.”

“Your place looks like a—”

“Sam.”

“—a _forest_.”

Steve burrowed his face in his hands, jiggling his knee up and down. He was sitting on the couch, right in the middle of all the ten trees that were crammed into his apartment. It had been hard to sleep last night with how _strong_ the smell of the trees were—one or two smelled _fine_ ; eleven of them smelled ridiculous.

Sam sat next to him on the couch, giving Steve’s shoulder a soft pat. “What the hell happened, man?”

“What’s it look like?”

“It looks like you decided to start a tree farm in this apartment.”

Steve groaned. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. At least the _ceiling_ didn’t have a tree. “Natasha told me to buy a tree.”

“ _A_ tree,” Sam pointed out. “She said _a_ tree. As in _one_ tree. Not _multiple_ trees.”

“I _know_.”

Sam sighed, shifting on the couch so he was facing Steve. “Start from the top.”

There were twelve days ‘til Christmas, and Steve came out to a friend for the very first time.

* * *

**_December 18_ **

Five days later, Steve stood next to Sam in front of the familiar shop. They waited three days because Sam said that visiting Bucky every day was creepy and weird, and Steve did not want Bucky to think he was creepy and weird.

“Okay, repeat the plan.”

“Sam—”

“I just wanna know everything’s clear!”

Steve rolled his eyes, tucking his phone in his back pocket and gripping the hot chocolate he bought from a coffee shop. He had scribbled his number on the side of the cup. Well, the number on a burner phone, at least. Apparently giving out SHIELD issued phone numbers was illegal unless the person went through a complicated background check, so Steve had to buy a new phone yesterday just to have a number to give Bucky.

Sam, drinking a hot chocolate of his own, poked Steve’s shoulder with a gloved hand. “Repeat the plan.”

“I can just buy more trees until he beats that Rumlow guy, you know?”

Sam put a hand to his face. “We’ve been through this. You’ll look like a weirdo. Get a date first so he knows your intentions.” He gave Steve a pointed look. “Repeat the plan.”

Steve sighed. “I’ll go in there, give him the drink, tell him I think he’s cute, and I want to go on a date with him. I’ll apologize in case he isn’t gay.”

“Atta boy. Go get yourself a date.” Sam grinned and patted his back like a big brother. “Nervous?”

Surprisingly, Steve didn’t really feel nervous. Yet.

They walked in the shop together, but Sam went off to look at the neon designs by the window (they weren’t glowing yet). Steve ignored him, already going to the cashier to ask about Bucky.

“Hi,” Steve said.

The cashier—different from the one yesterday—gave Steve a surprised look, looking like he was ready to scream or cry. Steve spoke before he could say anything and call everyone’s attention. “I’m just looking for an employee—Bucky Barnes?”

“Oh! Bucky!” The kid—because he _was_ a kid, maybe 17 or 18—said. He looked at the door to the backroom, then at Steve. “He’s having his break right now. But I can get him for you if—”

“No! No. I don’t wanna... interrupt his break,” Steve said lamely. There was an awkward pause, and he glanced down at the hot chocolate. “Uh, I’ll just... wait.”

Steve moved to the side of the counter, not going away but not _getting_ in the way either. He tapped the cup with his index finger, waiting for Bucky to appear. Every time the back room’s door opened, he perked up and then wilted when someone else came out. The third time it happened, the kid sent him a concerned look, but had the decency to keep his mouth shut.

By the fifth person to come out of the door, Steve was ready to leave, if only so he didn’t look like a fool in front of the kid.

But, on the sixth, before Steve could decide to walk out, Bucky sauntered out of the room. He was dressed in an ugly green Christmas sweater with a _B_ stitched right in the middle, and the Santa hat—as usual—was perched on top of his head

Steve almost dropped his cup.

“Hi,” Bucky greeted him, giving a cheery wave. “Another tree again?”

With shaking hands, Steve turned the cup around, making sure the side with his number on it was facing _him_ and not Bucky. He smiled weakly; resolve gone. “Yeah...”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. Clearly he had just been teasing, not expecting Steve to actually say _yes_ to more trees. “Alright...” Bucky said with barely restrained laughter. Steve felt his cheeks warm. “How many’s it gonna be this time, huh?”

Steve’s eyes flicked over to the list. He could see Bucky’s name in second place, fifteen trees behind Rumlow. “I’ll take twenty.”

Bucky blinked. “The—the big ones?”

“Yes.” Steve could already imagine the look on Sam’s face when he found out that Steve definitely did _not_ stick to the plan.

 _Twenty_ , Bucky mouthed. He nodded slowly and walked to the sliding glass doors that led to the yard with the trees. Steve followed him, and Bucky stopped next to the saw, looking over and squinting at Steve. “What _exactly_ are you doing with these trees?”

“Things.”

“Things?”

“I’ll... I’ll donate them!” Steve lit up, making a mental note to ask Stark if he knew places that could use Christmas trees. “Yeah, I’ll donate them.”

“The trees?”

“Yeah! To homes for the elderly and stuff.”

“I...” Bucky glanced the saw. “Okay, then.”

“I’ll go pay,” Steve mumbled, wanting to dump the hot chocolate in a bin. It was cold by now, for sure. Going back into the shop, Steve locked eyes with Sam, who raised an eyebrow at him. Steve waved him away, not wanting to explain.

Then, as Steve was about to approach the counter, another employee fell into step beside him with a smirk. “Hi, sir, how can I help you?”

Steve’s grip tightened around the cup, and he pulled a strained smile. “I’m fine, thanks. Just going to pay.”

“I can assist you on the way.”

And really, there was no way Steve could say no since, well, they were already standing next to the counter.

Steve gave the cashier his card, watching the other employee’s eyes go wide when he mentioned buying 20 Christmas trees. Then, when the cashier gave Steve the paper to write the name of the employee who he bought the trees from, the annoying employee leaned over, pointer at the paper, and said: “You can write Rumlow on that.”

Steve froze, pen hovering over the paper. He lifted his head, glared at Rumlow, then slowly wrote _Bucky Barnes_ on the line, handing it back to the cashier.

“Stop stealing his customers,” Steve said, stiffly.

Rumlow sneered at him. “You his boyfriend or something?”

“Or something,” Steve muttered.

“You a fag too? Like him?”

Before Steve could even punch the guy (not only for the language, but the fact that he was insulting _Bucky_ ), a voice interrupted.

“Brock,” said the cashier, staring at Rumlow with wide, panicked eyes, “that’s Captain America.”

Rumlow’s eyes snapped to Steve, then to the cashier, then back to Steve, but with less hostility in the end. “Oh—oh, shit, man—”

Steve sent him a warm, sarcastic smile. At least his _Captain America_ thing was helpful in times like this. “Like I said, stop stealing Bucky’s customers and we won’t have a problem.”

Rumlow backed away after that, mumbling insincere apologies that were mostly said out of fear than regret. But, if the threat worked, then Steve didn’t really care about Rumlow’s sincerity.

He got back his credit card, called Tony to pick up the trees, and bid Bucky a goodbye, throwing the coffee cup in the trash.

Sam was waiting by the exits as Tony’s trucks began to load up the trees. He was shaking his head, muttering: “ _How_ did you let that happen?”

“Shut up,” Steve grumbled, sauntering away.

There were seven days ‘til Christmas, and he still didn’t have a date.

* * *

**_December 21_ **

Three days later, Steve woke up to a loud crash and multiple people muttering _inside his room_.

He squinted, sitting up. As his eyes came into focus, he came face to face with Natasha. Her arms were folded as she leaned on the wall, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Aw, fuck no,” Steve muttered, tugging the blanket up so he was able to tuck his knees in them. Out of his periphery, he could see Sam regarding him with a sheepish look. “Why are you here?”

Sam spoke first. “She dragged me here, man, I didn’t—"

Natasha scoffed. “ _We_ are saving you from becoming a forest hermit.” She pushed herself off the wall and tugged his blanket away. It fell to the floor pathetically. “Come on. Stark’s moving out the trees.”

And when Steve focused, he _could_ actually hear Stark’s voice down the hall, spilling words at lightning speed.

“Moving them where?”

“Word has it you were going to donate the trees,” said Natasha, sounding far too sure of something Steve had only told _Bucky_. She turned around and walked out the door, clearly expecting Steve to follow.

Steve shot Sam a dirty look.

“I did _not_ say a word,” Sam said, hands raised. “She went to the shop!”

“She talked to Bucky!” Steve hissed.

“ _She_ is right outside the door and can still hear you.” Natasha walked back inside with Steve’s scarf and jacket and shoved it into his chest. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Rogers.”

And.

Well.

Saying no would probably just lead to the Avengers personally seeing to it that Steve gets dragged to wherever it was Natasha wanted to go to.

* * *

Steve refused to get out of the car, clinging on to the grab handle like a child as Natasha and Sam tried pulling him out.

“I feel like I’m taking a toddler to school,” Sam huffed. He managed to take Steve’s right shoe off.

“I hate you both,” Steve said, pulling himself back into the car even more.

Natasha sighed, letting go of Steve’s leg. She glanced at Sam, then back at Steve, smirking. “Rogers, get your ass out of this car or I’ll have _Bucky_ do it.”

That threat finally convinced Steve to let go of the handle and clamber out the car. He frowned, adjusting his scarf. “Why do you even know about Bucky?” he asked, though he knew this would’ve happened sometime soon. Steve wasn’t the best at keeping secrets, and Natasha was the best at figuring them out.

“You really gonna ask that?” Sam said.

Steve pouted.

Natasha just snorted, already making her way to the shop. She stopped right by the entrance door, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder firmly. “Please do us all a favor and ask him out.”

“Nat—”

“If you leave that shop with another goddamn tree, Rogers, I’m shooting your balls off.”

“Where’s the holiday spirit?” Steve muttered under his breath. Natasha smacked him upside the head for that little comment. He yelped. “Okay! Okay, I’m going in.”

“He’ll end up buying ten more trees,” he heard Sam whisper.

Steve rolled his eyes, even though there was a 50% chance of that happening.

Without looking back at his so-called friends, he stepped inside the shop, spotting Bucky almost immediately. Bucky was entertaining another customer, but he looked over at Steve, giving him a small wave and bright smile. Steve waved back.

He walked to a random shelf with reindeer figurines, picking up one of the tiny reindeer. He could see Sam and Natasha creepily watching him from the car they went back in, but he ignored it. His friends were way too ridiculous.

“Hey, Steve.”

Steve jumped, nearly dropping the reindeer in his hand.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Bucky said with barely restrained laughter. “Didn’t know you were so caught up in that thing.”

“I just—sorry.” Steve blushed, placing the figurine back on the shelf. He straightened up, trying to find his words. “Um. Hey.”

Bucky gave him an amused look, folding his arms. “Please don’t tell me you’re here for more trees. I already managed to beat Rumlow because of you.” Bucky cocked his head. “He’s also stopped stealing my customers. Peter said it had something to do with you.”

“That’s... that’s a good thing.” Steve looked at Bucky uncertainly. “Right?”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “It definitely is. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Steve wanted to reach over and tuck away the stray curl of hair that was peeking out of Bucky’s Santa hat. Out the window, Steve could almost feel Sam and Natasha’s eyes burning the back of his head, and he wanted to curse them out for distracting him in this fragile situation.

The words _I want another tree_ were already on the tip of his tongue, for lack of anything else to say. He didn’t want Bucky to leave him for some other customer.

Fuck. He was pathetic.

“So...” Bucky said, bouncing on his feet a little. “You’ve been, uh, coming here a lot.”

Steve blinked. “Yeah...” Well, he shouldn’t be surprised that Bucky had even noticed. After all, not a lot of people waltzed into the shop with a plan to order twenty Christmas trees.

Bucky bit his lip, looking away. “Is it just... ‘cause of the tree thing?”

“No,” Steve said immediately, then his eyes widened. “I mean, yes! Wait—no—yes—it’s not—” he shut up.

“It’s not?” Bucky actually looked a little hopeful.

“I mean. Last time I was here. I brought hot chocolate.”

He stared at Steve blankly.

Steve groaned. That did _not_ explain anything. “For you,” he clarified. “The hot chocolate was supposed to be for you.”

“For me.”

“Yes. Except. I backed out.”

“Of asking me out?”

Steve gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. He held his breath, waiting for the judgment and rejection. The _I’m sorry, Steve, I’m actually straight_. Or, even worse, maybe _I’m not attracted to you_.

But Bucky’s face broke into a grin and it instantly melted all of Steve’s doubts. “I would’ve said yes. I _am_ saying yes, if the offer’s still on the table.” Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Bucky shook his head. “It’s not a Captain America thing. Frankly, I didn’t even—”

“Wait, you _know_ I’m Cap."

“—figure it out until the third time I saw you. Yes, I know, and it doesn’t matter. But I find you cute. And interesting. So.” Bucky shrugged. “I was hoping you would ask. I didn’t want to make the first move since...”

“I’m Cap?” Steve tried not to feel offended. He _knew_ that there were some preconceived notions about Captain America, and it wasn’t like anyone aside from Sam (and Natasha now, apparently) who knew he was queer.

“Well, no. I mean, not just that.” Bucky wrinkled his nose. “Okay, I wasn’t _exactly_ sure if you liked men, but more _importantly_ , the first time you talked to me, you said you had your eyes on someone else.”

Steve stared. For a few moments, he didn’t even know _what_ Bucky was talking about.

“ _Oh_ ,” he whispered when he finally remembered their first conversation. “ _Oh_.” His eyes widened. “Oh! I meant you!”

Bucky grinned. “Yeah? Well, wasn’t that clear the first time around. Especially since we had only met.”

Steve buried his face in his hands. “Shit, is it creepy?”

“Nah. I was attracted to you too the first time I saw you. And I definitely found you endearing when you kept buying trees. Though, I hope they didn’t rot in your house.”

“I, uh, no, _Tony_ donated them.” Steve felt his cheeks warm even more. He fumbled with his hands and leaned one arm on the shelf in an attempt to look casual. “I intended to, but I never actually... got around to do it.”

Bucky chuckled a little. “But you didn’t really intend to buy all those trees, did you?”

“At first, it was to see you. Then, I found out about the competition and... I really wanted to help you win. Get that money.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Bucky said, brushing a hand over Steve’s arm. He smiled. “It’s sweet. Thank you.” He looked over Steve’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Is that Falcon and Black Widow?”

Steve glanced back. Sam and Natasha were standing by the window, taking pictures with their phone. They both gave him a thumbs up and wide grins. “I hate them so much,” Steve muttered, covering his eyes.

Bucky laughed.

“Well, without them, you wouldn’t have a date, now would you?”

Steve looked back at Bucky. “No.” He sighed comically. “I guess I should thank them for that.”

There were four days ‘til Christmas and Steve had a date with Bucky Barnes.

* * *

**_December 25, Five Years Later_ **

Bucky had tears in his eyes from where he was laughing on the couch. He was wearing one of Steve’s sweaters and tucking himself further into the blanket. “I love it!” he declared, then burst out laughing again.

Steve huffed at him, putting his arms on his hips. The sole Christmas tree in their house was covered in random colors of tinsel, with areas that had no decorations and areas with too much. The star on top was a little crooked, but Steve couldn’t seem to get it to stand straight.

“I think it looks nice,” he finally said.

Bucky threw off the blankets and walked over to him, hugging him from behind. “Mhm. It’s beautiful.”

Steve pouted. “You’re mocking me.”

“I am _not_ ,” Bucky gasped. “I am merely admiring your work.”

Steve rolled his eyes and turned around to kiss his husband. “You’re decorating next year.”

Bucky shook his head. “I have decorated every year for the past five years. Nope. You’re decorating for the next five.”

Steve sighed. “I hate you.”

“Nah, you love me too much.”

“I do.”

“Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, Buck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays everyone!! Comments and kudos are appreciated <3


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